A Fozzy Forum Story
by Y2Jen
Summary: 1 of 2 fanfictions I wrote for the Fozzy Forum about Chris Jericho's band Fozzy. In this tale, Rich is pissed off and tries to teach Chris a lesson in responsibility, but it doesn't go all too well... PLEASE R&R thanks!


**A long time ago on a forum far, far away…**

-_cue Star Wars rip off music here, and is immediately sued_-

Last time, it was revealed that Mike truly was indeed Brandon's uncle from on his father's side, it wasn't just another infomercial scam. Elsewhere at a Burger King, Chris choked on an onion and had to be rushed to the vet by Hister. Frank had gone to Toys R US to look for AA batteries, seeing as he had none at his home. His Voltron toy was lost in the newly planted azalea bushes. And Joe the dog ambassador to planet Earth got the winning lotto ticket in a poker game, but because he's a mutt with no valid visa, the news just reported a chance of rain. Meanwhile, Chancellor Jennie sat waiting in the chat room for an emergency meeting of the minds with Lisa and James, both which surprisingly never showed due to a car being towed at an unpaid meter. Also, Rich slept in again, counting the marshmallow bats in the chocolate cereal spread out on the dining room table. And now we check in with Sean in his orange bath towel, and it seems as if his water has been shut off...

_Re-enactment of Star Wars by Fozzy band members, scene 12 take 47, and… ACTION!_

Sean: Duke, I want your hair.

Rich: Oh no, it's that guy again!

Sean: My name is Darth Vader!

Chris: And I'm his friend Han Solo! My light saber goes schwing, schwing!

Rich: …Dude, that's nothing to be proud of...

Chris: ...

Sean: …can I have my five bucks now…?

**And if that made any sense to you at all, I'm sorry.**

And so now, as the short musical interlude ends the intermission, we ask that you kindly return to your seats from the lobby, bathroom, back seat of your cars, or wherever, as we look down on the beautiful town of Atlanta, nestled sweetly in the state of Georgia... heh, Georgia, I had a classmate named Georgia, she was funny... okay random tangent there, sorry, back on topic here- Today, December 2nd of the year 2005 is just another normal day in the normal world in the anything but normal lives of Mr. Normal himself... Arthur, the lovable, cuddly, masked defender of everybody's favorite band: Fozzy.

"Does anybody want swiss over cheddar in their ham and cheese?" Arthur called from the kitchen where he slaved over a cutting board, making the sandwiches for the gang. Notice the lovely frilly pink polka dotted apron lying on the floor. Like Arthur would ever wear that!

"Look just throw some meat and cheese together, add some bread, and call it a sandwich, and bring it over!" Mike called back, not DARING to be torn away from his magazine 'Bass or Base'.

"Would you like it on a plate or to eat it with your bare hands Mr. Manner-less?" Sean leered from on the couch.

"Gees, somebody's Mr. Snippety today." Mike looked at his band mate.

"OOOHHH!" Rich bounced up and down on the chair he sat on. "Do me next, do me next!" ... stares... "...okay I'm sorry, I need to switch to decaf." He muttered.

"You already switched to decaf." Arthur came in with the sandwiches. "Am I done with this charade now?"

"Yes, you are no longer our maid." Frank smiled. "I can't believe you even made that bet, I can't believe you thought that the Astros could actually beat the Sox!"

"Because I have faith to believe what's in my heart." Arthur frowned and slunk back into the kitchen to clean up.

"I wanted the Yanks to win." Sean spoke up with a mouth full of lettuce.

"Now whose minus the manners?" Mike glared.

"Alright you cackling hens, this isn't a hair salon. Do you guys have ANYTHING better you could talk about?"

"Excuse me?" Rich turned angrily to the television where Chris sat three feet from the screen, playing his video games. Ouch, that CAN'T be good for the eyes!

"Are you deaf? Or do I just have to repeat myself." Chris replied without turning away from his gaming. "Jump you damn bastard Vegeta, those stupid fire balls are coming!"

"My god Chris you are SUCH a child."

"I know you are but what am I."

"A child."

"Oh I know YOU are but what am I?"

"A child."

"Takes one to know one!" Rich froze and was silent. "And if I'm a child, you living with me not as my legal guardian makes you a petifile, and I'll be darrned if I stand here and be lectured by a pervert."

Sean laughed and spit out his soda, "OH, burn, major burn to the max,98 degree burn! OH, do you need some ice for that burn?"

"No, but you'll need some ice if you don't cram it with that sandwich?" Rich shook a fist and Sean solemnly went back to his snack as if nothing had happened.

"Wow Richard, what's the matter with you?" Mike raised an eyebrow.

"Oh it's not me that's the matter Michael, I'M fine, it's him!"

Mike followed where his fellow guitarist pointed, "The dog?"

"Huh?" Rich turned to see a dalmatian sitting in front of him. "Who let the dog out?"

"WHO, WHO, WHO, WHO, WHO?"

"No I'm serious!"

Frank raised an eyebrow, "Rich man, we don't have a dog."

"CHRIS!"

"WHAT!"

"Oh! Don't you raise your voice to me."

"You started it."

"God, you are so immature."

"Oh I know you are but what am I?"

"Not this again." Frank got up. "If you don't mind me, I'm going to lay down some traps. You guys make more noise than my drum set." He left the living room.

"What's that?" Mike stood up quickly, lifting a hand to his ear. "Oh Arthur, you want me and Sean in the kitchen? Okay! Come on."

"What? But I didn't hear anything." Sean looked up but Mike grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the kitchen, choking him in the process.

Rich stood behind Chris as he continued to play the video games. Rich was literally fuming, steam coming from his head. In fact, the smoke alarm went off, causing the dalmatian to run off and find the nearest fire station, "Chris?"

"Yes'm?"

"Turn it off."

"Noooooo."

"How about, yes."

"How bout NO."

"Yes!"

"Fine, later."

"Maybe now."

"Later."

"NOW!"

Chris finally paused it and turned around, "Look dude, what the hell is your problem?"

"My problem is we all do our own to pull our weight around here, but all you do is cause trouble and make more work and headaches for us. You just watch TV and play your damn video games all day. You're like a prepubescent little boy again! You have no sense of responsibility, and a very short attention span." Chris just stared blankly. Rich sighed, "I swear you have add sometimes."

"What?"

"Ugh. Look, if you don't shape up and start helping us pay the bills or do some chores, we're kicking you out."

"From where?"

"From, where…? The house!"

"Oh... okay."

Rich sighed again and closed his eyes to rub the bridge of his nose from the stress, "Now, do I make myself clear?" No reply. "Chris?"

"Yeah, fine, I'll do it this afternoon." Chris was back to playing his video games again.

Rich was about ready to explode now, "It's seven at night! Are you even listening to me?"

"Tomorrow then. Gees, you talk too much."

"Tomorrow is Sunday."

"What, church? Are you religious now or something?"

"No, Sunday is our gig. Or did you forget that too?"

"Nah, I'm just raggin ya."

"Raggin? Did you just say, raggin? Where did you get that from, anime?"

"Huh, why, something wrong with it?"

Rich paused, "Well, no, actually. Wow maybe I should switch back to caffeine." Rich left the room puzzled and went into the kitchen. "Guys what are we gonna do with Chris."

"Yeah. Did somebody hit him on the head or something?" Sean asked.

"No, I'm pretty sure the last time I wanged him it was in the shin, and it was an accident though this time I swear it." Mike held up his hands for defense.

Rich sighed and lay his head down, hands in his hair, "He is killing me softly."

"Wow, that should be the name of our next song." Sean pondered.

"I think somebody already has that title." Mike replied.

"Oh." Sean frowned and lay his down too. "Darn."

"Look guys, all I know is that Chris has to be taught a lesson."

"Isn't he kind of old to be going back to school, Rich? I mean, you can never teach an old dog new tricks. That dalmatian can't fetch..."

"Not that kind of a lesson Mike. And for the last time, that is NOT our dog!"

"Then what?"

"A lesson in responsibility."

"Aw man not this again." Sean buried his head into his arms. He remembered the time when Chris forgot to brush his teeth, Rich made Sean literally drag Chris to the dentist to watch some painful cavity fillings. Chris literally tore up the carpet with his nails and his wailing gave Rich a migraine. "Why must you always be the parent of this household?"

"Don't slouch Sean, it's bad for your back."

"…" That proves a point I think.

"But back to the task at hand here, I have a plan."

"Boy I hope it's better than the last one you had."

Rich covered Sean's mouth, "Sh, I told you to never speak of that!" Rich was referring to the time when the hotel got the room reservations wrong and Sean and Rich had to share a bed, and not a king sized bed neither. Rich turned away from Sean, pulling most of the blanket as Sean, in his heart spotted jimmies, hugged his Snuggle teddy bear. "Speak of this to no one." Little did they know that Frank was in the closet with Arthur, watching through the keyhole and listening against the door.

"Look all I'm saying is that SOMETHING has to be done here before he does something stu… reckl… well, before he hurts himself at least."

Rich was too late, Chris screamed from the living room and everyone ran to the kitchen door to see Chris laying on the floor. He smiled up innocently at them, "Hi."

"You alright?" Mike asked.

"Fine." Chris laughed shakily, putting on his best convincing smile.

Rich threw his hands in the air and everyone went back to the dining table, "Whatever, back to my original statement, I have a plan."

The next day, Chris was watching television like always, glued even to the set even through the commercials. Arthur had gone out to the store to pick up some things before the gig that night. Frank and Rich poked their heads around the corner and Rich put a finger over his mouth to motion for silence.

Frank nodded and whispered, "Alright we should hurry, it's only a mater of time before Chris starts to juggle…" He couldn't finish his sentence, Chris was already juggling the lamp, a couch pillow, and a pluged in electric drill while whistling the Harlem Globetrotter theme.

"Too late." Rich slapped his forehead. "Just get in there now, go!" He shoved him in.

"Hey Frankie." Chris smiled, no longer juggling, like the stuff magically disapeared.

"Hi."

"So, what's up?"

"Nothing much."

"You're boring, I'm getting a snack." Chris walked into the kitchen, leaving Frank standing there about to speak alone.

Rich came in the room, "Well that didn't go as planned."

"Never does." Frank frowned sadly.

In the kitchen, Chris pulled the last popsicle out of the freezer and went to eat it, he lifted it to his mouth but stopped, "Oh, I should wash up first. Lord knows Madam Richie will throw a fit." Chris went to the sink, and as he did Sean walked into the kitchen and saw the popsicle on the table. Rich and Frank looked around the corner to see Sean eat it, then set the stick down before going to the fridge. Chris turned around and wiped his hands on his shirt, "AH!" He cried out and ran over to the counter, picking up the licked clean stick. He started bawling, "Wah, somebody killed my ice cream, it was the last one too!"

"Well don't look at me." Sean stood up and closed the fridge door, licking his lips. Chris put the stick in his mouth to chew on and folded his arms, leering at him. Sean looked around, then started angrily back at Chris, "What, you think it was me just because I have a beard? That's discrimination man, there are other people in this house too with goatee's you know!"

"You have ice cream, on your MOUTH!" Rich growled, shaking a tightly clenched fist.

"Oh." Sean gasped and wiped a finger under his chin to reveal some of the left over evidence. Chris let out a sad sigh and Frank couldn't help but laugh.

"Sean's just as bad as Chris, believe it or not." Rich frowned.

"But it sure was funny though." Frank was still smiling.

"Now I know where Chris gets it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember the time Mike walked in on Sean and Chris at the gym?"

One time Mike had gone to the gym to pick up Sean and Chris after their workouts, but they weren't in the weight room, he found them back in the cardiorobics area and Sean was scarily enough dressed like a ballerina, waving around streamers, singing, 'tra lalala'.

"Is no one else traumatized by this?" Chris asked himself.

Sean continued to prance and dance and sing, "I feel pretty, oh so pretty…"

Mike needed some counseling after that experience of seeing Sean wearing a very much north of the knee pink frilly skirt. But back to reality, or as real as this seems to get, Rich decided to move onto a new plan, this time he'd take the action himself.

"Hey Chris." Rich walked out to the front of the house where Chris sat on the porch playing trying for the life of him to set up a chessboard with action figures.

"Hey Duke. I got this for Christmas back in '80, and just found it, wanna play?" Chris smiled but then he realized the queen and king were on the wrong colors. He fumbled with them, "Grr, I should've traded it in for81 yo-yo's."

"You know, I was thinking…"

"Did it hurt?"

"What are you, like perma-drunk..?"

"Huh...?"

"Nothing. So anyway Chris, I was wondering if you'd be interested in going to the mall with me. I'm going to pick up a few things for tonight's show and I was thinking maybe there's something you'd like to get, just for the hell of it, you know? Buy some chocolate?"

"Sure why not. I could sure use a visit to the food court, just no corn, I hate corn cobs."

"There's only one problem though."

"What's that?"

"Well I lent Mike my pants, and he went out for a jog to look for chicks, and my wallet was in there, as well as my drivers license. So you'll have to drive."

"Oh." Chris grinned. "No problem." Bad idea Rich, where do you get your plans at…!

And so the duo was soon off to the mall, speeding all the way. Chris laughed as he drove wildly on the freeway, darting in and out between cars, going well over the legal limit, as Rich held onto the dash and door handle for dear life, "Ah, what the hell are you doing?"

"Driving." Chris cranked up the ZZ Top on the radio. "Woo!"

"This isn't Nascar Chris, you AREN'T Jeff Gordon, and you AREN'T at the Indy 500! So please let up on the gas."

Chris honked and flipped off an old lady obeying the rules of the road, "Watch out for it grandma!"

"Chris I'm begging of you, please, slow down or… I'm gonna die!" Rich grew stiff as they nearly hit a bus. "How did you pass the drivers test, I ask you that?"

"Don't worry, we won't get a ticket, we're famously popular celebrities here." Chris winked. They passed a couple of motorcycle cops on the shoulder that were taking a coffee break. The red corvette zoomed by, nearly blowing the donuts out of their hands.

They waved, "Hi Fozzy!"

Rich looked back at them, then stared forward in shock, "Wow, you were right... for once."

"Well sure I was." Chris looked down. "Aw crap, we need gas, and I left my money at home." Chris made a u-turn on the freeway and got onto the other side lanes, speeding back home. Causing five cars to all stop at once and crash into each other in the process, then a giant semi truck honked and plowed right into them, and since it was carying fuel, it exploded into a ball of flames. "Wow, they really need to learn to drive." Chris scratched his head, meanwhile Rich was pale as a ghost, hair standing on end as he felt his heart starting to return to normal after a seeminly fatal cardiac attack.

"Alright so that idea of responsibility and watching out for others didn't help." Rich growled as he straitened himself out after a ride on the highway to hell.

"So now what?" Mike asked, thrilled that Rich's plots continued to fail once again.

"Hmm." Rich began to formulate." I've got another idea. Come with me!"

"Aw damnit." Mike sighed as he followed Rich back into the house. They saw Sean sitting in an orange monk robe in the yoga Buddha position in front of the TV, humming.

"Don't stop to stare, just keep walking." Rich quickly pushed Mike along.

Mike went to Chris's room and looked inside, "Hey where's Chris at? And who the hell are you!"

"What do you mean who the hell am I?" Dork Chops sat up from Chris's bed.

"Oh. Don't worry it's just Elaine."

"I'm not Elaine! Wait… whose Elaine?"

"That girl from Sienfeld."

"I AM NOT ELAINE! My name is Mel! Where do you the hell get that, I don't even look like her!"

"Okay, whatever, just tell us what you are doing here?"

"Chris asked me to look after his pet rock while he went out to get a Billy Idol haircut."

"Pet rock?"

"Yeah, the darn thing chewed up the carpet last time he left it alone." Dork picked it up and began to nuzzle it. "Whose a good little rocky wocky?"

…stares…

"I've said it before and I'll say it again." Rich pulled Mike out of the room and walked off quickly. "Just keep on walking."

Mike went to Frank's room and knocked on the door, "Hey, you in there?"

"Shower!" His voice was heard calling over the S Club Seven. 'Never had a dream come true, till the day that I found you...'

"Oh sorry man, never mind." Mike sighed. "Well now what?"

"We wait for Chris. Come on, back to the living room." Rich led Mike back to the main room and when they arrived they were shocked to see Chris there, wearing a red kimono he used when performing in a kabuki play done to appease the angry water god, sitting on his legs on the floor, leering up at Sean. Rich froze, "What, the, hell?"

Sean was floating, "Om, you have to release your inner chi in order to focus on reaching enlightenment."

"This is so totally bogus, I ain't doin it." Chris growled.

"You'll never achieve nirvana with that attitude mister."

"But I already have three of their CD's!"

Rich slapped his forehead, "I give up."

"Why are we going after Chris when it's clearly Sean that's the problem?"

"I don't know…"

"Excuse me?" There was a knock at the door and everyone turned over, Chris watched Sean falling splat to the floor in the process, then they bothturned. It was a woman's voice.

"Hello?" Rich went over and opened the door. "Can I help you?"

"Hi my name is Angel, I just wanted to come by and introduce myself, I'm your new neighbor."

"Oh, well welcome to the neighborhood I guess that freaky old pool man moved out or died." Mike smiled as he looked her up and down. Rich noticed that and elbowed him in the gut.

"Say, Angel, why don't you come by the club tonight and watch our band play?" Rich asked.

"Sure, I'd love to!" Angel beamed.

"Great, it's a date." Mike grinned, and was elbowed again. He held his stomach as he tried to catch his breath back. "Ooff, I mean, see you at six."

"Right, the gig, we'd better get ready!" Sean gasped and tore off the robe in one bound. Everyone let out a cry and shielded their eyes. Sean looked down and then around at everyone, "Oh come on now babies, we're all guys here, nothing out of the ordinary." He walked back down the hall to his room, passing Chris's on the way where a girl's scream was heard.

"Oh no, Elaine!" Rich gasped and jumped up into heroic action.

"I'M NOT ELAINE!"

And so that night Angel and Elaine, er Dork Chops, both went to the Fozzy gig which went off without a hitch. Arthur even made sandwiches for everyone. As the band preformed Enemy for their encore, Chris decided to try a new trick he'd picked up while watching a music video on Fuse earlier that day. He twirled the mic wire in his hand and it hit Sean right on the side of the face, knocking out hopefully what was gum and not a tooth. Mike was freaked out and jumped onto Frank who was more or less just plain confused at the whole thing. And as for poor Rich, whose efforts were all in vain, he got hit in the crotch by the mic stand as Chris threw it back in order to take the stage front solo. And so now we leave everyone's favorite band in another adventure,with a word from our sponsor-

"Hi, this isTerra here, America's favorite fast talking spokesman, letting all of you know that the new alarm clock radio has finally come out! No more annoying buzzes, beeps or boring radio shows blah blahing about the latest news in sports, politics and weather, hell that's what puts us to sleep in the first place! It's time now for a great way to wake up with a Fozzy song, as the new model now features a CD slot for all of your favorite artists and tracks. And it's only three easy painless payments of $29.95! Enjoy!" And, deep breath...


End file.
